


Browncoats & Scabbards

by idontlikegravy (subcircus)



Series: Eternal Serenity [1]
Category: Firefly, Highlander: The Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-27
Updated: 2009-11-25
Packaged: 2017-10-03 19:27:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subcircus/pseuds/idontlikegravy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Methos and Richie find themselves in trouble with the Alliance, they hitch a ride on the only crate that would take them. But now their problems are only just beginning...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

## Browncoats and Scabbards

 

As they entered the bar and took in the obvious quality of its patrons Richie looked at Methos and grinned. “Heh, its just like the cantina in Star Wars, I’m Luke Skywalker and you’re Ben Kenobi and now we need to find Han to get off this rock.” He said with a trace of a snigger. Methos rolled his eyes.

“Except that _we_ need to get off this ‘rock’ because even after all this time you can’t keep your big mouth shut when there’s a pretty lady in the room.”

 

“How was I meant to know she was an Alliance agent?”

“Yeah, well this time leave the talking to me. This crew were the only ones even willing to consider transporting us and I don’t want you wrecking it, _dong ma_?”

“Shiny, old man. Just shiny.” Richie replied. Methos strode forward toward the bar. When he was a few steps in front, Richie muttered under his breath, “Stubborn old _hundan_.”

“I heard that _nansheng._” Methos approached a man at the bar and held out his hand. “Captain Reynolds?” The man turned and eyed Methos warily.

 

“Who wants to know?”

“I’m Doctor Mathew Clifford and this is my associate Ryan Richards.” The proffered hand was still not taken, so Methos lowered it. “A mutual friend told us you might provide us with transport to Haven if we ever had Alliance trouble.”

“Well now who might that be?”

“Shepherd Book.”

 

“Well I think that’s a might convenient seeing as he can’t disagree with you on that, being dead and all.”

“He’s dead?” Methos said with genuine concern, reflected in Richie’s face, “We hadn’t heard. I’m sorry. He spoke highly of you.”

“Well I know that’s a gorram lie.” Mal replied. Richie thought that Methos was getting nowhere, so he jumped into the conversation,

“It’s not a lie Captain. Shepherd Book told us that you were an honourable man. A bit pig-headed and dishonest, but generally honourable.”

“Is that so boy?” Mal said, standing up. Richie started forward, but Methos restrained him. Hoping that Reynolds didn’t speak old Earth French he spoke to Richie in that language,

“As far as this guy knows, you are a boy. He meant nothing by it.” Richie relaxed and looked at Methos. In French he answered him,

“Sorry, I can’t help it. Even after all this time being called that still bugs me.” He grinned and then spoke to Mal in English. “Yes Captain, that is definitely so. Now are you willing to help us or not?”

“What the hell language were you just talking? I didn’t recognise it and I don’t like people talking in languages I don’t understand. Makes it hard to know if they’re looking to cause trouble.” Mal said, his voice taking on a threatening edge.

“My apologies to you captain. We meant no offence.” Methos said, his tone placatory. “I was just warning my foolish young friend not to attack our only hope to leave this planet. I didn’t want you to know how desperate we are, but I realise that means nothing if you take against us and refuse us passage.” Methos eyed Captain Reynolds hopefully. Mal looked them over carefully, and he seemed to accept the explanation given. But it had not gone unnoticed that ‘Dr. Clifford’ had not said what the language was. That was something that could wait for another time though. Mal regarded them both for another moment before saying,

 

“Well, I don’t aim to get myself and my crew in any more bother with the Alliance than we already are. It seems to me that you two would have to have a great deal to offer if I look to taking you aboard.”

“I’m a doctor.” Methos replied.

“I already got me one of them.”

“We’re thieves.” Richie admitted, “That’s got to count for something right?”

“Not if you’re in so much hot water with the Alliance, can’t be that good at it right?”

 

“I’m one of the best hackers in the system and he’s the best safecracker. You hear about the job on Ariel a few months back? That was us.”

“You mean the Alliance reserve? That was you? That job would take at least six men.” Mal said with a certain amount of respect in his voice.

“Just two.” Richie said proudly. “So payment for our passage will not be a problem.”

 

“Unfortunately, my friend here is incapable of keeping his mouth shut, especially when there is a woman involved. Hence the Alliance problem and the need for a swift exit.” Methos added.

 

“How much are you willing to pay?” Mal asked, his eyes lighting up at the thought of a decent payday.

“We will pay for any and all repairs, supplies and fuel that you require from now until we disembark. On top of that we will add three thousand in cold hard cash once we reach our destination.” Methos offered.

“Which is what? Haven aint exactly named right anymore.”

 

“We’ll let you know when we figure that out. For now, passage anywhere but here would be good.” Richie replied.

“Fair enough.” Mal said, extending his hand this time, which Methos shook. “Follow me.”

 

 

“Your ship’s named Serenity? Interesting choice.” Richie said as they entered the ship.

“What do you know about it?” Richie started to answer, but then thought better of it. He couldn’t tell the Captain that he had been a Browncoat, had died at Serenity. Not without raising some tricky questions. For the second time since meeting the captain he cursed the fact that he was perpetually frozen at nineteen. Methos sensed his friend’s frustration and answered for him,

“His elder brother died on Serenity Captain.”

Mal looked suitably abashed, but his answer revealed nothing of any emotions he may have felt.

“A lot of good men died there.” He said coolly.

Methos looked up, taking in the surroundings, and he spotted a young woman sitting up on the gantry. There was something about her, a wisdom in her eyes, that caught his attention.

 

“Who’s that?” he asked. Mal glanced up.

“That there’s River, our pilot. Her brother Simon is the doc I mentioned. You can meet the rest of the crew later. River! Show our passengers to guest quarters.”

Up on the gantry, Methos could see that the girl continued to observe them and to his surprise he noticed that she was amused, as though enjoying her own private joke. He made a mental note to keep an eye on their unusual pilot before he and Richie trotted up the stairs to join her. She stood and silently led them to a twin berth cabin. She opened the door and ushered them inside, the wry smile never leaving her lips.

 

“What was it like?” she asked suddenly, making both Immortals start.

“What was what like?” Richie asked.

“Earth that was.” She said matter-of-factly. The two Immortals looked at each other before regarding the pilot again.

“How could we possibly know that?” Methos laughed. River tapped the side of her head.

“It’s all in there. I can see it. Swords and lightning and games and rules.” She was interrupted by the intercom.

 

“River, I need you up at the helm. Time to leave.” Mal’s voice commanded from the speaker.

“Oh well. Maybe later. Goodbye Richie, goodbye Methos.” With that, she skipped off down the corridor. Richie was about to follow to protest, but Methos laid a hand on his arm.

 

“There’s no point trying to deny it to her. She’s obviously a psychic, a reader.”

“What are we going to do? We can’t stay on board now.”

“We don’t have a choice Rich. We just have to hope that she’ll see things our way and keep quiet.” They began to stow their possessions, starting with removing their swords from their hidden sheaths and secreting them under their pillows. They were nearly finished unpacking when Methos glanced up to see Mal in the doorway.

 

“You two best come up to the cockpit. We got us some trouble. Alliance vessel approaching.” He said before turning and heading to the cockpit. Methos and Richie swiftly followed. As they entered, they could see the large Alliance vessel approaching and as it drew within firing range both Immortals took a step backward and looked at each other. River looked at them curiously for a moment before returning her gaze forward, but all other eyes were on the Alliance ship.

 

“Did you feel it?” Richie asked rhetorically, it was clear from the eldest immortal’s face he had, “Pourquoi y a-t-il d'l'un de nous sur ce bateau?”

“Je ne sais pas. Merde, je ne sais pas.” Methos replied. Mal noticed that they were speaking in that strange language again, but he let it slide, just this once. He had more important matters to attend to at the moment.

 

“Do you think they’re here for our heads?” Richie asked. An incoming wave lit up the monitor and a familiar face appeared.

“No gents,” Mal said as he gazed into the face of the Operative, “He’s not after you.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things keep going from bad to worse...

“Greetings Captain Reynolds.” The Operative said in his permanently civil tone. Mal simply nodded in response. “You still have something that belongs to the Alliance.” The Operative said.

 

“Well I don’t reckon that any person should belong to the Alliance. Sides, there’s no point now we spread the word ‘bout Miranda. River’s got no more secrets to tell. Let her go.” Mal replied.

 

“I don’t believe you’re in any position to negotiate, captain. There are five attack vessels with their weapons trained on you as we speak. Please surrender, or I will be forced to destroy you.” The Operative reasoned. Mal paused, as though seriously considering the deal. In reality he was forming a plan and hoping to hell that River knew what he was thinking.

 

He looked to River and nodded and she smiled and engaged the ships engines. He flicked a switch to terminate the communication and then pressed another button to release ballast and several decoy signal beacons to try and prevent the Alliance ships following.

 

Serenity accelerated and Mal relaxed as he scrutinised the screens.

“They aren’t following.” He sighed with relief. “Get us out of the core worlds fast little albatross.”

 

“Miranda.” Richie said. “You were the ones that broadcast the wave. No wonder the Alliance is pissed at you.”

 

“You’d be advised to stay out of what ain’t none of your concern. _Dong ma_?” Mal glowered. “I suggest you two return to your quarters until we reach safe space. The crew will be busy enough without you poking your noses in.” Mal indicated down the corridor and with a shrug Richie and Methos turned and headed back to their cabin.

 

Once safely back inside Richie asked,

“Do you think he was the Immortal? Did you recognise him?”

 

“No, I don’t know him. I have no idea if he was the one we felt or not. It’s nearly impossible to judge via a wave. But I did spot that he was wearing a sword, and who carries a sword around in this day and age?”

 

“I wonder why they want the girl.”

 

“Oh no! I know how you get around lost causes when there’s a pretty girl involved. You’re not with the Boy Scout now. We stay out of this, we don’t get involved. We just hitch a ride to a nice isolated planet where we can stay out of trouble for the next thirty years or so, okay?” Methos snapped. Richie didn’t answer so he asked, “_Dong ma nansheng_?”

 

“Yes, I understand old timer. We don’t get involved. I’ll be as cool as a cucumber.” Richie said with a grin, making Methos laugh. “Any day now, we’ll be on some backwater planet living the high life. Scouts honour.” He added, provoking another laugh from Methos.

 

“Glad to hear it brat, glad to hear it.”

 

In the galley at the next mealtime, tensions were running high. The crew ate in silence, throwing wary glances at their passengers. Jayne stared openly as he shovelled his meal into his mouth, before stomping off to find a gun to clean. Mal too ate quickly and left for the cockpit to relieve River. Methos and Richie didn’t know what they had done to provoke such animosity, but it was clear they were suddenly unwelcome passengers. That’s if they had ever been welcome.

 

“Captain says you were friends with Shepherd Book?” The sudden break in the silence startled the Immortals. The question came from Zoe but both she and Kaylee were staring at them both intently.

 

“That’s correct.” Methos replied, “He was a good man, I was sorry to hear of his passing.” Zoe glowered at his evasive answer, and Kaylee was nervous about what she might do, possibly involving the airlock. Richie sensed the danger they were in so he decided to provide a little more detail,

 

“We were trying to avoid some unwanted company. Shepherd Book kindly gave us shelter. He chatted with us long into the night, told us that if we needed help we should look to Haven. We visited him a couple more times, but we haven’t left the core in a while. It was him that told us to contact Captain Reynolds if we ever needed a ship. Said she was the fastest hunk of junk he’d ever seen. From what I’ve seen I’d agree with him.” Richie said with a grin. Zoe still glowered, not warming to the patented Ryan charm, but Kaylee positively beamed when he complimented the ship.

 

At that point, River entered the galley, helping herself to food and sitting at the table. She smiled broadly at the guests before tucking in with gusto. Zoe threw the two Immortals another glare before getting up and leaving. Kaylee cleaned up before doing the same, throwing Richie a smile as she bounced back to the engine room. The two Immortals were now alone with River, and they suddenly felt more uncomfortable than they had during the rest of their meal. She regarded them both with her penetrating gaze for a moment.

 

“Will you tell now?” she asked, a childish inquisitiveness evident in her face.

“Don’t you already know?” Methos responded. River looked dark for a moment before the smile returned.

 

“All jumbled. Nearly six thousand years, lot of images. Big mess, doesn’t make sense.”

“Okay, but quid pro quo.” Methos replied, making Richie smile.

“Who’s Lector?” River asked, puzzled.

“Nobody, just a fictional character.” Richie replied quickly. Damn, he’d have to watch his thoughts around this one, especially as she was so gorram _hot_. He quickly pushed down any further such thoughts as River blushed.

“Quid pro quo means we tell you something, then you tell us something. Deal?” Methos queried. River nodded in response. “Well what do you want to know?”

 

They chatted for over an hour. Methos was reticent at first, but Richie still seemed incapable of keeping his mouth closed and River had already got most of the information from their minds, she just needed them to make things clear for her. So they told her about Immortals and their own lives, though both decided it better to leave out as much about the Game as possible. When they questioned her, she was open and honest about herself, although less so when questioned about Serenity or her crew. As they talked Methos found himself warming to this inquisitive and intelligent child, and he sensed that there was more to her than she let on. Eventually they were interrupted by Mal’s voice over the comms.

“River! Get back up here now! How long does it take to eat one gorram meal?”

River frowned, looking like a naughty schoolgirl who had been forced to stop examining a fascinating bug and go into class. She stood up and went to the door where she paused and said,

“You can tell me about the lightning later.”

_Damn_ Methos thought to himself, with a smile.

 

They arrived in the atmosphere of Triumph without further incident and touched down a little way from the nearest settlement. Methos and Richie disembarked after paying Mal the agreed sum. They watched Serenity dust off then headed for the township.

By the time they reached their destination they were both covered with dust from the desert.

“First a beer.” Methos declared, indicating a bar, “Then we find somewhere to stay and a hot bath.”

“With you there old timer.” Richie said, shifting the weight of his pack.

 

They sat down at the bar and ordered two beers, but before the drinks arrived they sensed the approach of another Immortal.

“Aw hell. Before we even get a beer?” Methos opined. Richie slumped his head on the bar in frustration, but his hand was already headed for his sword, and Methos was doing likewise.

 

“There’s no need for that gentlemen.” Said the Operative, “And, by all means, have your drinks. Let’s keep our little negotiation civilised shall we?” he seated himself on a barstool next to them.

“Negotiation?” Richie asked.

“Yes. Let’s negotiate how you get to keep your heads, and I get River Tam.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Methos and Richie face the Operative and a surprising face from their past.

“I suggest you do as he asks. He doesn’t make threats lightly,” came a familiar voice from behind them.

 

“Mac?” Richie exclaimed, spinning around on his stool, his eyes widening as he took in MacLeod’s uniform. “Oh, Mac, don’t tell me you’re with these guys?” he said, nodding in the direction of the Operative.

 

“You will have plenty of time to reminisce later. Captain MacLeod will be accompanying you back to _Serenity_ to make sure there is no double cross.” The Operative said. “Now, let’s remove ourselves to a quieter spot and discuss our business, shall we?” He stood and led them to a table, in a dark corner, at the back of the bar.

 

“Now, gentlemen, there are three ways this can happen,” the Operative murmured, as they sat. “ One, you cooperate and receive a full pardon on the capture of River Tam. Two, you fail to cooperate and go to jail for a very long time. And three, you pretend to cooperate to make your escape and then double cross me. Needless to say, if the latter occurs, I will hunt you down, no matter where you run to; and MacLeod will also be willing to take the necessary measures.”

 

Richie and Methos glanced at Duncan and then each other. They were fairly certain that Mac wouldn’t take either of their heads, but who knew how much he had changed in the hundred or so years since they’d last seen him?

 

“What exactly would you want us to do?” Richie asked reluctantly.

 

*-*

 

Mal’s lips twitched into a smile as _Serenity_ headed through the black towards Regina. Miraculously, they had picked up a job on Triumph. It was only hauling cargo, but it was a wage and an honest one at that. River was letting the guidance systems do most of the work, and she was taking a quick catnap in her chair. Mal glanced across the cockpit at her and smiled. He had grown very fond of his little albatross, and he wasn’t about to let anything bad happen to her.

 

Sooner or later, they would need to do something about the Operative or they’d have to spend the rest of their lives looking over their shoulder, even more than they were already. He was not about to let the Alliance prevent them from making a dishonest buck. “I look after me and mine,” Mal muttered.

 

River started in her chair and sat up, her eyes wide. “We need to go back,” she cried and grabbed at the controls.

 

“Now hold on there, little one, we need to get this cargo to its destination, is what we need to do. Unless you can give me good reason, I ain’t going back.”

 

“The old ones are in trouble. He has them; he’ll make the lightning come.”

 

“What old ones, darling? You’re making even less sense than usual. Now come on, why don’t you go get some rest and I’ll steer the ship a while,” Mal said gently.

 

River considered him for a moment before seeming to relax. She nodded and headed out the door but, as she left, Mal heard her mutter, “It’s okay, they will come to us.”

 

Mal shook his head. He might be fond of her, but there was no getting away from the fact that River was all kinds of crazy.

 

*-*

 

“Just how much have you told him about us?” Methos demanded as they entered Duncan’s shuttle.

 

“Don’t worry, as far as he knows neither one of you is more than five hundred,” Duncan replied. “In fact, he thinks Richie is the elder,” he added with a grin, as he sat down in the pilot’s chair.

 

Methos eyed him with suspicion, but decided the Highlander was telling the truth. Richie was less convinced.

 

“I’m not exactly willing to trust anything you say, at the moment. What the hell are you doing working for the Alliance?” Richie demanded.

 

“I was convinced it was the right thing to do.” Duncan said softly.

 

“By who? The Operative? Duncan, that _hundan_ wants to capture that girl and experiment on her,” Richie snapped back.

 

“You can’t know that. Even_ I_ don’t know what the Alliance wants River Tam for.”

 

“I can tell you,” Methos said, “They believe they own her and they want her back. Last I checked, Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod didn’t believe that anyone had the right to own someone else.”

 

“I still don’t believe that, Methos, but we’re not talking about slavery here. River Tam is mentally unstable, she’s dangerous.”

 

“From what she’s told us, it’s because of what they did to her! And now you’re going to help them to take her back and carry on what they were doing just because some guy tells you to?” Richie said incredulously. “How can you not see that you’re on the wrong side, Mac?”

 

“I’ve known that man almost as long as I’ve known you two, Richie. He’s a good man, an honourable man.”

 

“So you’re saying we aren’t?”

 

“No! Richie! You’re twisting my words. After all these centuries you still act like a nineteen year old sometimes. It’s never black and white, you know that. Although I’m not the one currently wanted for grand larceny.”

 

“That was a political protest against the Alliance,” Methos chipped in.

 

“That just happened to make you two filthy rich. Convenient as most of us lost our savings when the Swiss banks collapsed.” Duncan said seriously, but the corner of his mouth raised slightly as he said it. “Amanda, I expect this of, but you two?”

 

“Yeah, well it’s sort of difficult to make an honest living unless you work for the Alliance,” Richie said defensively.

 

“What’s wrong with that?” Duncan replied, although he knew immediately from the looks on both their faces that he had said the wrong thing.

 

“What’s wrong? Oh nothing. We didn’t fight a Civil War for any particular reason. All those brave men and women died for nothing at all.” Richie said.

 

“Oh. You were Browncoats,” Duncan said softly.

 

“Some of us still are,” Richie replied defiantly.

 

“I hope that isn’t true. If it were it would be treason against the Alliance.” Mac responded.

 

“Maybe, but a person still has the right to think and say what they want don’t they Duncan?”

 

“Of course. The Alliance isn’t a dictatorship. But outside the Core it’s like the Wild West Richie. No law, complete and utter chaos, kill or be killed. The Alliance is simply trying to bring peace and order to the whole ‘verse.” Duncan explained, sounding like a teacher trying to explain something to a four year old.

 

“Or ram it down our throats. Isn’t that what happened on Miranda?” Richie said coolly.

 

“Nobody has proved that the Miranda footage was genuine.” Duncan retorted.

 

“Listen to him Methos! Spouting the party line like a good little tin soldier. Look what you’ve become Mac. You can’t convince me to agree with you. You’re wrong about the Alliance. Very wrong.”

 

“Oh look, we’ve got clearance for departure.” Methos said, trying to diffuse the argument.

“Don’t think this discussion is over Richie.” Duncan said and turned back to the controls to begin the launch sequence.

 

“Discussion? _Ai-yah. Tyen-ah.” _Richie said incredulously and glowered at Duncan’s back until Methos led him to the back of the cockpit.

 

“Calm down _nansheng._ If we’re going to get out of this with our heads still attached, we’re going to need Duncan on our side. _Dong ma?_” Methos whispered.

 

“I know, I know, I just can’t believe that Mac of all people…” Richie said, the frustration in his voice clear.

 

“I know, it doesn’t sit well with the Duncan MacLeod we know, but it’s been a long time, Rich, maybe he isn’t that Duncan any more. But, if he is, one look at that sweet little girl and he’ll soon want to help her,” Methos said with a grin.

 

Richie smiled as he realised what Methos was saying. “So we’re going to help River, not sell her out?” he asked.

 

“We’ll take the path of least resistance, _nansheng, _but if I know MacLeod and his damn chivalry, he can’t resist a damsel in distress. Just follow my lead, okay?”

 

“Shiny, old man.” Richie said as Duncan launched the shuttle into space.

 

“So, Duncan, how exactly do you intend we find River Tam?” Methos asked amiably.

 

“Alliance agents will report in if they spot her or _Serenity._ The sizeable reward means that there are plenty out there happy to report a sighting. Until we hear something, we’ll just search for her. Captain Reynoldsis bound to keep to the Rim while they know we’re looking for them. We’ll start with Saint Albans and work our way in,” Duncan replied, his tone still abrasive.

 

“Saint Albans? They’d have to be pretty desperate to be there,” Richie said, trying to keep his tone civil.

 

“True, but they are desperate. We’ll leave no planet unsearched,” Duncan replied. He entered coordinates into the computer and the shuttle headed into the Black.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Methos, Richie and Duncan wait for Serenity and Duncan reveals why he's with The Alliance

“They aren’t coming, Duncan, can’t we leave this hellhole for somewhere warmer? Antarctica springs instantly to mind,” Methos sniped.

 

Duncan had insisted they remain on Saint Albans because he had received information that Mal Reynolds, and his crew, would be arriving within twelve hours. That had been two days ago, and they had yet to see _Serenity_ or any of her crew.

 

“One more night, Methos, if they aren’t here by morning then we’ll leave,” Duncan replied with a resigned sigh. Richie continued to glower in the corner of the shuttle.

 

Relations on board the shuttle were strained, and Methos was finding it hard to keep the peace. The latest argument had resulted in Richie retreating to the furthest point away from Duncan and sulking like a child.

 

_It was easier keeping the peace between Silas and Caspian, _Methos mused, _maybe I should just let them fight it out. _Unable to bear the silence any longer, and looking for some explanation from Duncan, Methos asked him, “So, who is this Operative, then? Why do you trust him so much?”

 

Duncan glowered at him, then Richie, who had sat upright, clearly interested but desperately trying not to appear so.

 

“That’s none of your gorram business.” Duncan replied.

 

“Hey, look, you’re the one who said we have to stay on this rock for another night. I think the least you can do is explain a little of what the hell happened to you. What happened to the Boy Scout we all knew and loved?” Methos retorted.

 

Duncan weighed up his options for a few moments, and then he sighed and began his tale. “Back during the Unification war, I was running cargo between the Core and the Rim. I’d had enough of wars and I didn’t want to get involved on either side. I had a wife, Sierra, and I had adopted her daughter Maria. We were happy, for a time…” Duncan said, trailing off. He gazed forlornly through the viewscreen, into the distance. After a minute or two, Methos coughed.

 

“I notice you’re speaking in the past tense,” he commented.

 

“We were on a run to Dyton when we were attacked by pirates. We were outgunned and outnumbered, so we let them take everything. Even so, they still killed everyone on board. When I woke up, I couldn’t find Maria’s body. I had given her a brooch that contained a tracking device, and I used it to find the pirates. They’d…they did what the Reavers do, tied her to the ship like a gorram hood ornament!” Duncan had stood up as he told them this and was now pacing the small cockpit.

 

“Ai-yah, Tyen-ah!” Richie said under his breath. Methos bowed his head and rubbed his hand across his mouth.

 

“I boarded the ship easily. They thought I was a ghost, come to punish them. Even after all these centuries, pirates are still superstitious buggers,” Duncan said, without humour, “I slaughtered them and then I found the nearest bottle and crawled into it for the rest of the war.” Duncan finished, sitting back down in the pilot’s chair. Methos gave him a moment, but he wanted more answers, and since Duncan seemed to be in a mood to give them, he pushed ahead.

 

“Then what?” he asked.

 

Duncan looked at him. “Then I met the Operative.”

 

*-*

 

_A bar on Persephone, November 11, 2511_

_Duncan  sat at a table, nursing a glass of the piss, that passed for scotch, in one hand and a picture of Sierra and Maria in the other. He had been there for days, but he kept paying for his drinks, so the barkeep kept pouring. _

_Suddenly he felt the approach of another Immortal. He wasn’t concerned, they were in public, but he looked to the door to see who it was. Most had left the Game behind on Earth, but not everybody. _

_The Immortal was one Duncan recognised from Earth, though he hadn’t seen him for a long time. He was Alliance military, top brass from the looks of his uniform; although Duncan wasn’t familiar with the new military, officer uniforms hadn’t changed much. The newcomer smiled as he recognised Duncan, but the smile was not returned. Instead, Duncan looked back to the picture, dismissing the other Immortal, making it clear he wasn’t in the mood for company._

_“Mind if I join you?” came the clipped, English voice. Duncan looked up._

_“Actually, I do.”_

_“Have I done something to offend you, Duncan? I thought we were friends?”_

_“We are, we are, Robert. I’m sorry, I’m just not good company right now.” In his state of inebriation, the Highlander’s native burr gave a lilt to his slurred speech. Duncan waved a hand at the seat opposite. “Take a seat, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”_

_For the next two hours, the Operative proceeded to talk, telling Duncan all about his time with the Alliance, about the Battle of Serenity, about anything and everything he could think of. Slowly, Duncan became more animated, his interest growing and his responses becoming more than incoherent grunts._

_Eventually, after much alcohol and persuasion, Duncan opened up and told the Operative everything about Sierra and Maria. The Operative sat silently listening until Duncan was finished._

_“This is why the Alliance is so important Duncan. We’re trying to bring order to the planets, not just the Core worlds, but all the inhabited worlds and the space in between. We’re working towards a better future,” the Operative said._

_“A noble cause, I’m sure,” Duncan retorted, “But I think Earth history has enough evidence to show that man will always be violent to his fellow man. Since we left Earth, things have become worse, not better. There will always be crime, and there will always be victims,” he said._

_“Not necessarily,” replied the Operative._

_*-*_

“We talked for hours, and he convinced me that the Alliance could achieve a lasting peace. He left me in that bar and about a week later I joined the Alliance. I’ve been with them ever since.” Duncan finished.

 

“And I thought I was the king of evasive answers. That doesn’t actually tell us who he is, MacLeod. What about a name?” Methos asked.

 

 

After a little hesitation, Duncan answered. “He doesn’t have a name any more. He gave up his identity for the Alliance. But he used to be known as Robert Durden.” Richie looked a little shocked at the name, as though he had seen a ghost. Methos noticed, but he didn’t want to press for an explanation while the relationship between them was so strained.  Duncan continued, “I met him back in 2002, we became friends and I’ve met him a few times since then. When he walked into that bar I hadn’t seen him for a long time, not since Earth. But I know him and I trust him.” The accusation hung between them like a physical thing.

 

“Don’t look at me, I never trust anyone,” Methos said. Duncan looked directly at Richie, who didn’t avert his gaze.

 

“I still trust you, Duncan, and I still respect you, even if I don’t respect some of the choices you’ve made, but I don’t trust Durden and you can’t expect me to. All his actions so far have been in conflict with this honourable man you’ve been telling us about,” Richie replied coolly.

 

Methos noted a look in Richie’s eyes that made him think that Richie was talking about more than the Operative’s actions regarding River.

 

Knowing from their encounter on _Serenity_ that Richie had never met Durden before, Methos wondered what Richie was thinking about. It was something he would have to ask the younger Immortal about later, maybe when Duncan was out of earshot.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just for a change, the crew of Serenity are in trouble...

“Just once,” Mal commented. “I’d like it if things went to plan. Just once, is that too much to ask?”

 

“Don’t ask me sir, I always assume the worst,” Zoe replied. They were both currently running for their lives, heading back to _Serenity, _and away from the crazed mob of townsfolk giving chase. “Especially when Jayne’s around.”

 

“Hey! How was I supposed to know she was fifteen?” Jayne asked, puffing. “She sure looked older.”

 

“That’s beside the point. Don’t you understand the words low profile? How’re we meant to rob a place when you’re busy stirring up a hornet’s nest with the mayor’s daughter?” Mal asked.

 

“You put me on reconnaissance. I was reconnoitring.”

 

“I swear, if we get out of here alive, I’m gonna chop it off and put it out the nearest airlock,” Mal snapped back. He spoke into his com, “Little Albatross, any chance you could dust off, maybe come pick us up?” He sounded casual, but there was an obvious urgency in the request.

 

“Sure thing, we’ll be there in two shakes of a lamb’s tail,” came back the response.

 

“Kaylee? What the hell are you doing in the cockpit? Where’s River?” Mal demanded.

 

“Don’t worry, everything’s shiny, we’ll be there real soon,” Kaylee replied, but there was a note of panic in her voice that didn’t inspire confidence in Mal. Any further worrying was pushed to the back of his mind, however, as a shot zinged past his ear.

 

“_Aiya_!” he cursed. He turned his head and began firing behind him, whilst still running. Zoe and Jayne were also firing at their pursuers. “Try and aim high. I don’t reckon we need to be killing any of these good townspeople just cos Jayne can’t keep his pecker in his pants.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Zoe replied.

 

“Jayne?  _Dong ma, _Jayne?”

 

“Awright, I hear you! Although you’re _fohng luh;_ they’re trying to kill us!”

 

“Well, I reckon they got cause, so shut up and run!”

 

_Serenity _chose that moment to fly overhead and land, rather ungracefully, a few hundred metres away.

 

“About time,” Jayne grumbled as the three made a beeline for the opening cargo ramp.

 

Once inside, Jayne and Zoe stood at the end of the ramp, providing covering fire, as Mal contacted the cockpit and gave the order to dust off. Without pausing for confirmation from the pilot or to draw breath, he headed for the cockpit. Jayne and Zoe waited as the cargo bay door closed, and then followed the captain.

 

“Would someone kindly tell me what the hell is going on in my gorram ship?” Mal demanded, storming into the cockpit.

 

Kaylee looked at him sheepishly from behind the controls.

 

“Everything’s shiny,” she replied, “River just fainted is all. Simon’s looking at her now.”

 

“She fainted? Well, what she go and do that for?” Mal snapped before turning sharply on his heel and heading to the infirmary.

 

“Don’t think she had much say in it,” Kaylee muttered to his retreating back.

 

“Take over the controls,” Mal barked at Zoe, as he passed her and Jayne in the corridor.

 

“What do you reckon that was about?” Jayne asked.

 

“I reckon I’m going to do as the captain ordered and mind my own gorram business,” Zoe retorted.

 

“Well, he didn’t order _me_ to do anything.”

 

“Then I’m ordering you to go away and keep your nose out. Captain will let us know what’s happening if, and when, he sees fit,” Zoe replied. Jayne saluted sarcastically and stomped off toward the galley.

 

Down in the infirmary, Simon was examining a nasty bruise on River’s forehead when Mal came bursting in.

 

“What, in the hell, happened?” Mal asked, before he was even through the door.

 

“I don’t know. She’s okay, by the way, thanks for asking,” Simon replied. “Small contusion to the forehead, but that’s all. As to what caused the collapse? I have no idea. She’s in perfect health.”

 

Suddenly, River started forward and looked between the two men frantically.

 

“The lightning! Richie!” she cried.

 

“Perfect health?” Mal asked, dubiously, “You sure she ain’t got a concussion?”

 

“She was like this before she hit her head. I don’t know what caused it,” Simon admitted reluctantly.

 

“If she’s gonna become a babbling fool, she ain’t no use to me. She’s your sister, I reckon you ought’a figure out what’s going on in that head o’hers, ‘fore she becomes dangerous again. That happens; I won’t be able to stop Jayne putting a hole in her head. _Dong ma?_” Mal said.

 

Simon nodded, biting back the insult on his lips. Getting Mal riled wouldn’t help the situation. Mal left them, and Simon turned to his sister.

 

“River, it’s me, Simon. Please, tell me what’s happening.”

 

“I know who you are. I’m not stupid, or funny in the head,” she replied, matter of fact.

 

“No, of course you aren’t. What is all this about? What made you faint?”

 

“They’re in danger, but it’s okay. We’ll help them and they’ll help us,” River answered.

 

“Who?” Simon asked.

 

“You’ll see,” she replied, with a smile, “I’m all better now, can I go back?”

 

“No more fainting?”

 

“No more fainting, no more silly talk. Scout’s honour,” she said with a giggle. Simon looked at her curiously.

 

“Pardon?”

 

“Nothing,” she said, in a sing song voice. Before Simon could stop her, she had hopped from the table and left the room.

 

Mal eyed River suspiciously as she entered the cockpit, but he didn’t say anything as she took the controls of _Serenity_. He watched her from the corner of his eye for a little while, though.

 

“Don’t worry. This isn’t like before, and I’m not crazy,” River said with a smile.

 

“Damn, Little Albatross, it’s kinda creepy when you do that.”

 

“I know,” River replied. Mal smiled and shook his head at her answer. “You should tell the others where we’re going. Don’t have to ask, you’re the Captain, but it would be rude not to tell them,” she added.

 

Mal thought about this for a moment, then flicked the com switch.

 

“Ship’s meeting in ten,” he said. River looked at him, slightly puzzled. “First I have to use the head,” Mal explained, as he got up and left.

 

Ten minutes later, Mal strode into the mess to find his crew seated at the table.

 

“Everyone here?” he asked.

 

“All ‘cept River,” Zoe replied.

 

“She knows what I’m about to say anyways, so that’s fine. So, basically, that last job went all to hell, leaving us without a proverbial pot,” Mal declared. He looked at his crew, waiting for the inevitable shit-storm. To his surprise, it didn’t arrive.

 

“So what now, Captain?” Zoe asked.

 

“What now? Now we go to one of the moons we never visited. I say we try our luck.”

 

“I’m sorry, did I just hear you right? Did I hear him right, Zoe?” Jayne sputtered.

 

“Hush, Jayne. Captain’s got his reasons,” Zoe said.

 

“Well, let’s hear ‘em then.”

 

“I reckon we’re outta options. We done used up every favour we got owing; every contact is either dead, in prison or looking to turn us over to the Alliance. We’ve not had a decent payout since we dropped off that cargo, and the money from those two passengers dried up weeks ago. We have maybe a week ‘fore fuel runs out and we’re dead in the sky.”

 

“But you said we would never leave it to luck, what with our luck being so consistently lousy an’ all.”

 

“That I did, Jayne, but I reckon any port in a storm, and right now we’re being tossed around by a monsoon.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“We got no choice.”

 

“Oh. Coulda just said that.” Jayne muttered. Zoe slapped his arm.

 

“Where’d you learn a word like consistently, anyhow?” she asked. Jayne shrugged. “Captain, perhaps we could try…”

 

“If the next word outta your mouth was gonna be Inara, you better rethink that sentence.”

 

“…Lilac. I was going to suggest we hit Lilac again.”

 

“Well, that’s almost as crazy,” Jayne said.

 

“Captain said we’re running out of options. Could be a big fat Alliance payday just sitting there for the taking.”

 

“If the Reavers didn’t wipe them out,” Mal pointed out.

 

“That’s exactly my point,” Zoe said. “Reavers ain’t interested in money, so they wouldn’t touch the payroll. If the colony’s still there, it’s a plain old bank job, but if it ain’t, we just stroll in and help ourselves to a heap of cash.”

 

“Plus, if the Reavers think there’s nothing left there, they would be unlikely to come back,” Simon reasoned. Mal looked thoughtfully between them.

 

“You’re not seriously considering this _shiong mao niao?_ _Jien tah-duh guay!”_

 

“_Bizui, _Jayne. You’re actually making kinda sense, Zoe. Which is worrying, cos it probably means I’m all kinds of crazy.”

 

*_*

 

A few hours later, _Serenity _neared Lilac, River at the controls, and Kaylee keeping her company, when a light flashed on the console in front of them. Kaylee examined her monitor before contacting Mal.

 

“Captain? I think you ought’a come up here. Got a wave coming through, looks like a distress call.” River began piloting _Serenity _toward the source of the distress call. “What are you thinking, River? Captain’s gonna be awful mad. Might be an Alliance trap.”

 

“No. It’s the old ones. They need us,” River answered, before putting more power to the engines. At that moment, Mal entered.

 

“Where the hell is she going? And why is she taking us there faster! River, stop!” Mal shouted. River ignored him, so he waved Kaylee out of the co-pilot chair, grabbed the controls and tried to wrestle them away from River. She was too strong, and so Mal contacted the infirmary. “Simon! Get up here now, your sister is going crazy!”

 

“_Run-tse duh fwotzoo…_”Kaylee whispered. Mal looked up and followed her gaze.

 

“_Kao!_” he exclaimed. Ahead of them, a small Alliance shuttle was losing a battle against two Reaver ships. “River, we’re not doing this. We can’t take on them Reavers, _dong ma?_ We have to go.”

 

“No. It will be okay,” she answered. At that moment, Simon arrived, panting, from the infirmary.

 

“Simon, do something, your _fohng luh_ sister is gonna get us all killed!” Mal barked at him. Simon looked from him to River, to the scene in front of them. He nodded, but before he could do anything, Kaylee gasped.

 

“Where’s the second ship gone?” she asked, frantic. Mal scanned the black in front of them, then pointed.

 

“There, one o’clock. They must have spotted us. _Aiya_! Well done Little Albatross, you might have just killed us all.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes' paths cross once again...

“What do you mean; we’ve only got one gun on this crate? How did you expect to capture River with only one weapon?” Methos demanded.

 

“I knew we wouldn’t get close in an armed Alliance ship. Besides, we don’t want a pitched space battle, we need to get up close for the capture,” Duncan replied, calmly but quickly pressing buttons.

 

“Well, that’s just marvellous. Going up against them with a pea-shooter like that would be like David vs. Goliath. And trust me, despite the propaganda, David didn’t win that one. So it looks like we’re all about to become Reaver-bait. Any ideas?” Methos asked.

 

“Besides letting them kill us? Not at the moment, no,” Duncan retorted.

 

“Oh that’s a wonderful suggestion. You do know what Reavers do to people don’t you? I suspect that would be permanent even for us!” Richie shouted.

 

Duncan focussed on the screen in front of him, and Methos glared at Richie. Richie was confused for a moment, until he realised what he had said. He’d forgotten that pirates had treated Duncan’s family the way the Reavers treated victims. “Oh, Mac, I’m sorry…I didn’t…”

 

Duncan shook his head, as though shaking away the bad memories.

 

“It’s not important right now Rich,” he said quietly. “I’ve jammed their coms and sent out a distress call, but I doubt there’s anyone out this far willing to come to our aid. So our only course left is to run.”

 

“Always been my favoured option,” Methos joked, grimly. Duncan punched a few buttons and turned the shuttle around, heading away from the oncoming ships as fast as the shuttle’s engine could manage.

 

After a few moments, Duncan examined a screen on the console and swore.

 

“If either of you has some fancy flying skills that I’m unaware of, now would be the time to let me know. The Reavers are gaining on us, and this ship won’t go any faster without tearing the engine apart.”

 

“Let me have the controls,” Richie demanded, stepping forward. Duncan looked at him sceptically.

 

“He’s a fair flyer MacLeod. Let him try,” Methos said with a shrug. Duncan stood up and allowed Richie to take the pilot’s chair.

 

Richie barrel-rolled the ship, before swinging her around the nearest moon, using the gravity to slingshot back towards the Reavers.

 

“Not to sound like I don’t have faith in your piloting, but what the hell are you doing _nansheng?_” Methos asked, a note of concern in his voice.

 

“Chill, old timer, it’s shiny. We’ll slingshot out, increasing our top speed temporarily. By the time they realise and react, we’ll have vanished into that gas cloud,” Richie replied, indicating a patch of space on the monitor. “Slam on the brakes, and they’ll fly right by,” he finished with a grin.

 

“I hope you’re right, Maverick,” Methos said, getting the reference to _Top Gun_. Even after five centuries, Richie was a walking talking reference section on twentieth century cinema. Methos had definitely been socialising with the boy too long.

 

“I feel the need, the need for speed,” Richie said, his grin becoming broader. Duncan leaned forward and glared at him.

 

“Do you think you could can the outdated movie references and concentrate on keeping us alive?” he asked.

 

“Some people have no respect for the classics. Won’t happen again, _Captain _MacLeod,” Richie answered, loading enough bile into the word Captain to make it sound insulting.

 

The shuttle shot past the Reaver ships, exactly as Richie had predicted, leaving them no time to react. The shuttle vanished into the nearby gas cloud. Once they were in deep, Richie brought them to a stop. He turned to look at Duncan and Methos, a smug smile on his face.

 

“Don’t look so happy. We haven’t lost them yet,” Duncan said.

 

“The Reavers have crappy old technology. No way will their sensors be able to detect us in here. We can just sit here, watch our sensors. Soon as they get bored and fly off, we can vamoose in the opposite direction,” Richie told him confidently.

 

“I hate to put a dampener on your brilliant plan,” Duncan interrupted, “But they’ve followed us in,” he finished, pointing to the screen. Richie and Methos followed his finger and saw two ships closing on their position.

 

“Guess Reavers scavenge a better class of ship these days,” Methos commented.

 

“Not helpful,” Richie said, grabbing the controls again and piloting them back into open space.

 

“Richie, head for that moon. According to the charts, it’s inhabited; maybe we’ll find help there. At the very least, we stand a better chance against them on the ground than in the air,” Duncan instructed. Richie nodded and headed for the moon.

 

“Are you _fohng luh_? You want the three of us to take on two ships of Reavers? If we die…” Methos argued.

 

“There may be no coming back. I know,” Duncan confirmed.

 

“Between us, there’s six and a half millennia of experience and knowledge, not even counting the Quickenings we’ve taken. With no Immortal to take our Quickenings, it will all be gone, forever,” Methos said. Duncan and Richie were both surprised by his words. It wasn’t like Methos to be so philosophical.

 

“But that’s six and a half millennia of experience in the Game. There’s no one I’d rather have next to me in a stand up fight,” Duncan reasoned. Methos sagged, knowing he’d lost the argument. Duncan turned to Richie. “Look, Rich, I don’t want any bad blood between us. If this is the end…”

 

“Don’t go getting all mushy on me now, big guy. They’re right behind us, and closing fast. _Kao_! We’re not gonna make planetfall.”

 

“Then there’s nothing left for it. I’ll make ready the pea-shooter,” Duncan said grimly before he dropped into the co-pilot seat and readied the shuttle’s gun. Suddenly the scanner blipped. Duncan looked at it. “Looks like a ship has answered our call. One of the Reaver ships has gone to greet it.”

 

“Tell me it’s a battle cruiser,” Methos said hopefully. Duncan started to laugh, which caused the other two to look at him warily. “What? What’s so funny?” Methos asked.

 

“It’s _Serenity_.”

 

In that moment of distraction, the remaining Reaver ship opened fire, a lucky shot that disabled the shuttle’s engine.

 

“Good news, Mac,” Richie joked, wrestling with the controls, “Look’s like we’ll make planetfall after all.”

 

*-*

 

Mal Reynolds was dimly aware that the Alliance shuttle was hit and entering the atmosphere of the moon. He had slightly more pressing concerns at the present, namely the safety of his ship and crew. The only reason the shuttle’s descent registered with him at all was that, if the other Reaver ship chose not to pursue it down, _Serenity _would be facing two ships instead of the one currently heading toward them.

 

Mal grabbed the controls, thinking fast. No sense in trying to outrun them. No sense, but it was their best chance.

 

“Simon!” he called. Simon nodded, his face determined, and stepped forward to sedate River with her ‘safe phrase’. But before he could, he was sent crashing to the deck as the ship rocked violently.

 

“We’re hit,” Jayne commented.

 

“I kinda noticed,” Mal replied. He examined a screen in front of him and cursed. “Engine’s hit. No way we can outrun them now. River, fly toward the moon,” he instructed. Since Mal now wanted to do the same thing she did, River agreed happily. “Kaylee, you reckon you’re ready to test this notion of yours?”

 

“Absotively,” Kaylee confirmed.

 

“Then get.”

 

“Looks like our luck hasn’t changed; the second ship’s headed this way,” Jayne pointed out.

 

“_Dahng ran_. Jayne, make yourself useful and go help her,” Mal commanded, indicating the retreating form of Kaylee. Jayne began to protest, then thought better of it and mutely followed Kaylee to the engine room.

 

“Captain?” Zoe said inquisitively.

 

“Kaylee’s got this _fohng luh_ idea that she can overload the engines, creating an EMP that’ll disable anything chasing us. It unfortunately disables us too, so River flies us in close to the planet, they give chase, we knock out their engines, they crash and die.”

 

“And you think this is the best time to test Kaylee’s theory?” Simon asked.

 

“Can you think of a better one? I’m all out of ideas here, so this is what we’re doing.”

 

“Simple but effective. And so crazy it just might work,” Zoe said with a smile. Mal smiled back.

 

“It’s what we do best,” he agreed.

 

River piloted _Serenity_ towards the moon, barely ahead of their pursuers.

 

“Kaylee?” Mal called over the com.

 

“_Just a couple of minutes,_” came her reply, “_Need to let the feedback build or it wont be big enough._”

 

“_Not the first time she’s said that,_” Jayne said lasciviously, followed by a muffled thud and “_Ow!_” as Kaylee hit him.

 

_Serenity _entered the atmosphere at speed a few minutes later, hotly pursued by the Reavers.

 

“How ‘bout we give em the run around, give Kaylee a few more seconds?” Mal suggested. River nodded and pulled the ship out of her dive, into a barrel roll, before looping the loop over the Reaver ships, heading back into the black. The damaged engine whined with a combination of Kaylee’s overload and the strain of trying to break free of gravity.

 

The Reavers turned and began to chase them back out. At the edge of the atmosphere, River reduced the power, letting the ship freefall back toward the surface, past the Reavers, before increasing power again to control the descent. She continued to head straight for the ground, nose first.

 

Mal was never one to put much faith in luck or divine providence, but he hoped sincerely that some sort of deity was looking out for them at that precise moment. When they were one minute from impact, he yelled at the com,

 

“Kaylee!”

 

“_A few more seconds._”

 

“Don’t got em. It’s now or never. River, cut all power, or we’ll get fried along with them,” he instructed. River obeyed, sending _Serenity_ into freefall once again. “Kaylee, do it!”

 

As _Serenity _continued her nose dive toward the ground, River pulled back with all her might on the controls, trying to control the descent. There was a judder as the EMP fired. River managed to get the nose up, and _Serenity _unceremoniously belly-flopped onto the ground, flinging her crew across the various cabins and onto the deck.

 

A few seconds later, two explosions confirmed that Kaylee’s plan had worked, as the Reaver ships ploughed into the terrain and blew up. Mal pulled himself to his feet and looked out at the two mile-high columns of smoke. He smiled and let out the breath he hadn’t realised he was holding.

 

“_Shungsheng duh gaowahn_; it worked!” Jayne exclaimed, staggering back into the cockpit.

 

“Never doubted it for a second,” Kaylee said, following him through the door, positively beaming. “Zoe?” she added, concern on her face. The others looked toward Zoe to see she was still slumped on the floor, blood flowing from a cut on her forehead.

 

Simon rushed to her side and checked her over.

 

“She’ll be okay, it’s just superficial. I’ll take her down to the infirmary and patch her up,” he said, helping Zoe to her feet.

 

“I’m fine, Captain,” Zoe said, pushing Simon away, before swaying and losing her footing. Simon caught her and hefted her upright again. “Perhaps a quick trip to the medical bay…” she added sheepishly. Mal nodded and helped Simon escort her to the door. Once she was gone, he turned to the others to give out orders.

 

“Kaylee, take a look see, find out just how much of a _jung chi duh go-se dway _we’re in, and how long it will take to repair. Get Simon and Zoe to help when they can. Jayne, River, you’re with me,” he instructed and headed out of the cockpit toward the cargo bay, Jayne and River following behind.

 

“Where exactly are we going?” Jayne asked.

 

“To check the wrecks,” Mal replied, checking his gun.

 

“We’re looking for survivors?” River said happily. Jayne snorted with laughter.

 

“_Fay-fay duh pee-yen_! Won’t be any survivors. Reckon there might be salvageable parts though,” he said. Mal glared at him before saying gently to River,

 

“That shuttle went down hard and fast. It’s impossible that anyone could survive a crash like that,” he explained. River just smiled enigmatically.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Fancy meeting you here"

Methos groaned in the wreckage as his bones began to knit themselves together again. The shuttle had come down hard and fast, and the debris was scattered over a field. Methos was just intensely grateful his body parts weren’t also scattered. He felt the Buzz of another Immortal and looked over to see Richie coming back to life. He winced when he saw that the younger Immortal was impaled on a stanchion that jutted out of the wreckage.

 

As he came back to life, Richie tried to move, and cried out in pain as the metal that was piercing his torso tore his flesh. He was being held aloft, but, with nowhere to place his feet or arms for support, he was slowly slipping down, each moment bringing fresh new agony.

 

“Hang on, _nansheng._ My leg’s broken, but as soon as it heals I’ll come over and lift you off of that thing,” Methos said.

 

“Easy for you to say, Old Timer,” Richie grunted in reply, panting slightly as he tried to reposition himself.

 

“Do you want me to shoot you?” Methos asked.

 

“No I do not want you to…Actually, yeah,” Richie panted in agony. ”Please, hurry.”

 

Methos nodded and drew his gun. He aimed and hit Richie square in the heart, killing him. Then he scanned the wreckage for any sign of Duncan but he couldn’t see or feel the Highlander in his immediate vicinity, so he assumed that he’d been thrown clear of the shuttle on impact.

 

Slowly and carefully he got to his feet, testing his newly-healed legs. Once he was certain they weren’t about to go from under him, he made his way across to Richie and began to hoist him free. It was hard going, and he only hoped that Richie wouldn’t wake up before he was clear, as his struggling would only make it harder.

 

“You look like you could use some help there,” said a familiar voice behind Methos.

 

_Stupid, stupid, _Methos chastised himself for being too engrossed in helping Richie to notice someone approaching them. With the Alliance and the Reavers after them it was ridiculously foolish. Slowly Methos turned to face the newcomers, already having some idea who it might be.

 

“Hello again, Captain Reynolds, Jayne, River,” Methos said cheerfully. He was actually quite happy to see them, at least River anyway, it was just their timing could have been better.

 

“You! What are you doing here?” Mal replied.

 

“Oh, you know, taking in the sights of the outer Rim, being chased by Reavers. Much as I’d love to stand here chatting, would you mind helping me remove my friend’s body from there?”

 

“He’s dead, ain’t going anywhere anytime soon, so I want some answers. Of all parts of the verse, how come we bumped into each other again? I ain’t much of one for book smarts, but even I know that the chances of accidentally running into someone you know out here are longer’n a Reaver’s vapour trail,” Mal demanded.

 

As he spoke, Jayne was stroking his gun in a manner that disquieted Methos, Immortal or not. Fortunately, Methos was spared answering Mal because, at that moment, Richie came back again with a scream of pain. Mal and Jayne both started, their weapons pointed at Richie.

 

“_Wang ba dan! _He’s alive,” Jayne exclaimed.

 

“Nice timing, _nansheng_,” Methos muttered, making River giggle. A smile tugged at the corner of Methos’ mouth before he became serious again and addressed Mal. “Oh please, by all means shoot. You’ll be doing him a favour.”

 

“You want us to kill him? I thought he’s your friend?” Mal asked Methos. The Immortal nodded.

 

“That’s right, and he’s in a huge amount of pain. I told you when we met that I’m a doctor. That wound is right through his torso, probably piercing a few major organs. It would be a mercy to shoot him. And while you’re making your mind up, he’s in agony,” Methos pointed out.

 

Mal thought about his words for a moment before raising his gun and firing once at Richie’s head.

 

“Jayne, help me lift his body onto the ground,” he instructed.

 

“_Tsai boo shr_! Like you said, he ain’t going nowhere. I ain’t paid to lift dead bodies,” Jayne replied. “Matter of fact, I don’t get paid much of anything for doing anything…”

 

“_Bizui, _Jayne and get over here,” Mal ordered. Jayne complied, but he continued to grumble as they lifted Richie off the stanchion and placed him on the ground.

 

There was a large hole passing right through Richie’s torso, and Methos hoped it would take long enough to heal that the crew of _Serenity _would be long gone before he returned to life again. He watched as River moved over to Richie’s prone form and knelt beside him.

 

“What you up to?” Jayne asked.

 

“Waiting for the lightning,” River replied with a smile.

 

Suddenly, Methos heard a gun being cocked and a barrel was pressed against his head.

 

“Now that’s done, you mind telling me why you weren’t surprised to see us, and just how in _guay_ you survived that crash?” Mal demanded. Methos raised his hands above his head in surrender.

 

“Go ahead and shoot, Captain Reynolds. If you don’t, you’ll be placing River and your whole crew in danger,” Methos said calmly. River looked at him as he said this, putting her finger to her lips in the universal gesture for silence.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I mean, it’s no coincidence we were here, Captain. We were running from the Alliance. They were after us for the bank job, but now they know that we’ve been aboard _Serenity_. They offered us a full pardon in return for giving them River. We declined of course, and our only option was to head to the Boondocks,” Methos lied.

 

“Never heard of a planet named Boondocks, and I don’t believe the _go-se_ coming out of your mouth,” Mal said, a scowl on his face.

 

“_Gou huan tang_, Mal. He wants us to shoot him; then let’s shoot him and get on with what we came here for!” Jayne said, pointing his gun at Methos.

 

Methos continued to stand there, with his arms still raised, waiting for Captain Reynolds to make a decision. But, true to his current run of luck, Methos felt the Buzz of another Immortal and couldn’t help letting out a groan. Either Richie had recovered, or Mac was approaching, and either one of those scenarios could only make this situation worse. He determined that the Buzz wasn’t coming from Richie, so he scanned the area in front of him. Methos was unable to see MacLeod, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t approaching from behind. He glanced over to where Richie lay and watched as River clapped in delight as the sparks of blue lightning began to heal his wounds.

 

_Oh great, _he thought, _It’s worse._

 

Methos dropped into a roll, away from Mal and Jayne, bringing his own weapon out of its holster. He’d finally spotted MacLeod in his peripheral vision; MacLeod was making no effort to hide. Methos aimed and fired four times, getting the drop on the Highlander, who fell to the ground, dead. Both Mal and Jayne spun around to see what Methos had shot at before turning back to Methos, guns aimed at him.

 

Methos dropped his own gun and raised his hands once more. Hands above his head, he used one finger to point to Duncan’s body.

 

“Alliance,” he offered in explanation.

 

Mal walked in the direction Methos indicated while Jayne continued to point his gun at the oldest Immortal. Methos was beginning to get tired of this farce; he’d have to remember to maim Richie later for getting them into this mess. He watched as Mal kneeled down and examined Duncan’s body before coming back to where the rest stood.

 

“He’s wearing civilian clothing,” Mal commented.

 

“Well, obviously. He was sent to track me and the boy. He’d stick out like a sore thumb if he were in uniform. He’s been following us the last three worlds we stopped on,” Methos explained, his tone more patient than he was feeling. He needed the crew of _Serenity _to leave quickly, or Richie would be creating more awkward questions.

 

“That don’t explain how you knew he was there.”

 

“I heard footsteps. Having just been attacked by Reavers, and then ambushed by you, I was more than a little jumpy, _dong ma_? And there was no time to argue with you, Captain Reynolds. What if it had been a Reaver?” Methos added. Mal conceded the point and lowered his weapon a fraction.

 

_This is taking too long, _Methos thought, _If Richie recovers, and doesn’t have the sense to do it quietly… _He spared another glance at Richie and River, but he was too far away to tell if the younger Immortal’s wounds had healed or not.

 

“It’s a good point, Doctor Clifford. But I still have questions need answering, so why don’t you come along with us? We’ll bring your friend, give him a burial on a safer world,” Mal said. Although he sounded congenial enough, Methos heard the threat of what would happen if he didn’t go with them.

 

For the second time in an hour, Richie’s resurrection prevented Methos answering Mal’s question, as the younger Immortal sat up with a sharp and noisy intake of breath.

 

“_Aiyah,_” Methos muttered under his breath.

 

“_Tyen shiao duh_!” Mal exclaimed as both he and Jayne turned their weapons toward Richie.

 

“_Chiang-bao hoe-tze duh guay_! He was dead,” Jayne said before turning to Mal for confirmation, “He was dead, Mal.”

 

“I know, Jayne. And more importantly, I think _he_ knew,” Mal said, turning his gun back on Methos. “It was no luck you survived that crash. What in hell are you?”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awkward questions require answers. Or Jayne starts shooting.

Mathew Clifford was about to answer Mal’s question, when suddenly his previously dead companion, Ryan Richards, sat up with a sharp and noisy intake of breath.

 

“_Tyen shiao duh_!” Mal exclaimed as both he and Jayne turned their weapons toward Richards.

 

“_Chiang-bao hoe-tze duh guay_! He was dead,” Jayne said before turning to Mal for confirmation, “He was dead, Mal.”

 

“I know, Jayne. And more importantly, I think _he_ knew,” Mal said, turning his gun back on Clifford. “It was no luck you survived that crash. What in hell are you?”

 

Jayne continued to point his weapon at Richards as he struggled to his feet, aided by River.  Once he realised who she was, he smiled at her in recognition.

 

“Hey, fancy seeing you again,” he said.

 

“Everyone is where they should be. Except one, but don’t worry Richie, he’ll find his way home, you’ll see,” River declared. Richards gave her a puzzled look and shook his head.

 

Suddenly, Mal’s communicator crackled into life.

 

“_Captain, we’ve got company. Looks like at least two Reaver, and an Alliance ship,_” Zoe said over the comm. Mal groaned.

 

“_Aiyah. _This day just gets better and better. Okay, no time for explanations, you two get moving,” he instructed, waving his gun in a shooing motion toward the two men.

 

“Mal?” Jayne queried.

 

“I want answers, Jayne. ‘sides, I’m not enough of a _hundan_ to leave anyone to Reavers. Now come on,” he commanded and began to shepherd them away from the crash site.

 

As they walked, Richards got close enough to Clifford to muttered in a low voice,

 

“Any great ideas old man?”

 

“None spring to mind, _nansheng_, but we’re heading to _Serenity_, which is what we wanted. Just follow my lead,” Clifford replied.

 

They headed to the ship on foot as quickly as possible; luckily she was only a few hundred yards away, behind a small rise. Waiting for them in the cargo hold were Zoe and Simon, who both looked more than a little bewildered to see the return of Mathew Clifford and Ryan Richards. Zoe raised an eyebrow and placed a hand on her pistol when she realised that Mal and Jayne had guns trained on the pair.

 

“_Tsai boo shr_! Were they on the shuttle? How did they survive?” Simon asked. As they came aboard, Mal quickly closed the doors. River headed straight up to the bridge as fast as she could.

 

“Mighty strange coincidence, running into you two again,” Zoe commented.

 

“No coincidence, Zoe. Simon, help Jayne escort our guests to the infirmary,” Mal instructed. Simon moved forward to help the two newcomers. “Then lock them in there.”

 

Simon stopped and looked at Mal.

 

“But all this blood…their injuries must be severe, they’ll need tending,” Simon protested. Mal was already headed up the stairs with Zoe toward the cockpit.

 

“No injuries, Doc. Now get them squared away. We’ll get answers once we’re away from here. _Dong ma?_” Mal replied, still walking. His last statement was directed at Clifford, who just nodded.

 

Jayne pushed Richards forward with the barrel of his gun and, with Simon, they headed to the infirmary.

 

“More trouble, sir?” Zoe asked as she and Mal headed to the bridge.

 

“Ain’t it always?”

 

*-*

 

“Well, this is another fine mess, _nansheng,_” Methos commented as Simon sealed them in the infirmary.

 

“Me?! What the hell did I do?”

 

“I was talking our way out of it, but your noisy revival blew any chance we had,” Methos replied testily, checking drawers and cabinets for anything useful as he spoke. Richie stared at him incredulously.

 

“Well excuse me for breathing. Literally,” he added with a grin. Methos stopped investigating and glared at Richie for a moment, before he smiled and shook his head.

 

“I sometimes forget how trouble follows you around. I swear you’re as bad as Amanda,” he said, amusement colouring his tone. When Richie chuckled, he continued. “Just remind me, if and when we get out of this _fohng luh_ situation, to teach you how to come back _quietly_. Five hundred years and you haven’t even managed to learn a little discretion. Even with all the practise you’ve had.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, very funny. It’s not like I enjoy dying.”

 

“Could have fooled me, _nansheng_.”

 

*-*

 

“What in hell’s name you doing, Mal?” Jayne demanded as he entered the cockpit. He was gesturing towards the aft of the ship, so Mal assumed he was referring to their ‘guests’.

 

“River says they’re okay, I trust her. Don’t mean I trust them none. Soon as we’re safely in the black, we’re gonna have a little chat, just me, you, our guests and Vera,” Mal replied darkly. Jayne smiled expansively at the mention of his beloved gun.

 

“You gonna let me interrogate ‘em? Thought you didn’t hold with such behaviour?”

 

“Seeing as it’s not gonna do any lasting damage, I don’t see the harm. ‘Sides, that rule’s for humans. Dunno what the _go se_ these fellas are, but they sure ain’t human.”

 

*-*

 

Mal decided he wanted Zoe in on the questioning; there were few more intimidating than his second in command when she decided to be. Then River had insisted on being present too, and Mal didn’t much feel like arguing or sedating her. Since where River went, Simon followed. Mal just gave in and the interrogation became a crew meeting in the galley.

 

Jayne was upset by this and sat in a corner, cradling Vera, his sulk creating an almost tangible atmosphere. The two visitors sat at one end of the table, facing the crew. They didn’t seem nervous or worried to Mal, but whatever they were, they were obviously good liars.

 

“Let’s start with an easy one, how ‘bout you tell us your real names,” Mal began, betting that the two had been less than honest on their first introduction.

 

“Richie, Richie Ryan,” admitted the younger man. The older man shot his companion a filthy look before saying,

 

“You can call me Mathew, it’s as good a name as any.”

 

Then Richie muttered something in that strange language they’d used before. Mal was about to call him on it, but River interrupted.

 

“No point in lies here, old man. Nobody here wants the lightning, and the truth will set everyone free,” she said in her usual cryptic way. But her words seemed to have meaning for Mathew, who muttered something under his breath and then said,

 

“My name is Methos.”

 

“That name means nothing to us, so why hide it?” Simon asked.

 

“When you’ve been hiding your identity for as long as I have, old habits die hard,” Methos explained.

 

Mal processed his words and thought about what he had seen planet-side.

 

“Just how long is that?” he asked, suddenly realising that these two might be able to do more than heal.

 

Methos sighed; it was clear that he was reluctant to talk. He looked to River, who nodded encouragement, then to Richie, who was obviously taking his lead from Methos.

 

“I don’t know for certain, but it’s somewhere around six thousand years.”

 

*-*

 

It took twenty minutes for the swearing and general chaos that followed Methos’ revelation to subside.  That was followed by about three hours of storytelling from the two Immortals, which was constantly interrupted by the crew, before they ran out of questions. Methos wasn’t certain that the Captain was entirely satisfied, and he was certain from the glower on her face that Zoe was still sceptical.

 

But, despite River’s assurances, Methos wasn’t about to trust a boatload of strangers with every detail of his life history. Richie, on the other hand, seemed more than pleased to share.

 

“If you don’t have family, don’t have a brother, then who was at Serenity?” Mal asked.

 

Zoe hadn’t been paying much attention to Richie until now, but she was suddenly very interested in what he had to say.

 

“I was,” Richie admitted. “I was a sergeant in the 91st. Must have died about fifty times every day in that valley,” he added with a shake of his head.

 

Mal and Zoe seemed shocked. They obviously hadn’t expected that answer, and Zoe seemed to visibly soften toward the younger Immortal with this revelation. Inwardly, Methos smiled at this turn of events.

 

“Finally, that mouth of yours has done something right,” he muttered to Richie in French, causing him to grin.

 

“One more question,” Mal demanded, suddenly tense again. “What in _tyen shiao duh_ kind of _fei hua_ language is that?”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the truth finally out, can Methos, Richie and the Tams escape the Operative?

Mal had confined Richie and Methos to the guest quarters rather than locking them up again. He still had no idea what to do with the two Immortals, but they were Browncoats, and that counted for something in his book.

 

He was piloting the ship for now, River was back having her supper, and it was giving him time to think over the situation. Zoe joined him, taking the co-pilot chair and sitting in amiable silence for a while. Mal was fairly certain the best thing to do was leave the Immortals at the next planet, but their paths seemed to be entwined, and he would rather have potential trouble on a short leash than out in the black where it might pounce unexpected.

 

“So, what now, sir?” Zoe asked. Inwardly Mal smiled, he’d swear sometimes that Zoe was the reader and not River.

 

“Don’t know for certain, let’s just get as much distance between us and the Alliance, then we’ll decide what to do with them. We’ll head for one of the backwater planets; maybe see how Nandi’s doing.”

 

“Reckon Jayne’d appreciate that, sir,” Zoe said, her lips quirked in amusement.

 

“Reckon he will,” he glanced down at a monitor in front of him. “_Aiyah!_ Alliance ship approaching. Got an incoming wave, transmission only.”

 

Mal pressed a button and the image of the Operative appeared on the screen in front of him.

 

“_Go se_,” Mal cursed and thumped his head against the console.

 

“_Greetings once again, Captain Reynolds. It has come to my attention that you are now harbouring not two, but four fugitives. I’m willing to overlook this…infraction…if you will turn them over to me now. You have two hours until my ship catches yours. I give you one hour to make your decision. Choose wisely, Captain, or you will force my hand.”_

The message ended, and the screen went blank. Mal looked up to Zoe for her reaction, but her face was unreadable.

 

“Well, I don’t reckon we owe those two anything,” Mal began.

 

“Reckon you’re right, the trouble they’ve caused us. And we don’t know that they didn’t set this up,” Zoe pointed out, quite reasonably.

 

Mal nodded thoughtfully before instructing Zoe,

 

“Bring our guests up to the bridge to chat a spell.”

 

*-*

 

Mal opened a channel to the Alliance vessel and, after a brief pause the face of the Operative appeared on the screen.

 

“_You’re early, Captain Reynolds_,” he said.

 

“I just want to make one thing clear. If we have these fugitives you’re looking for; and I ain’t saying we do, but if we was to hand them over, me and mine would be free to leave, nothing on our heads?” Mal asked.

 

“_You have my word, and an official pardon for all previous misdeeds is in my hand_,” came the reply. Mal nodded and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

 

“Still got half an hour to make up my mind, you’ll get your answer then. Reynolds out,” Mal said before turning to address Zoe, who had been stood behind him during the exchange.

 

“Thing I can’t figure out, sir, is how they found us so fast,” Zoe commented.

 

“I think I can answer that,” said Methos as he and Richie entered the cockpit. He held out his hand and there on his palm were two tiny chips. “Sub-dermal tracking devices. I just pulled one out of each of our arms. I’m sorry, I had no idea.”

 

“Like hell you didn’t,” Mal said and jumped to his feet, drawing his weapon. Zoe did the same, so Methos and Richie raised their hands. “I reckon you’ve been leading them here all along. You’re working for them _hundahn._”

 

“No! No, you know we’d never do that, Captain. We explained our allegiances. Besides, they’re after us. How do we know you didn’t plant them?” Richie said.

 

“_Wang ba dan_!” Mal shouted. Both he and Zoe took their eyes off Methos for a split second, during which time he lunged for Zoe’s gun. She pushed him back, and shot him three times. Richie started forward, but Mal shot him too. “Get these pieces of trash off my boat,” he instructed. Zoe nodded and began to drag Methos’ body out of the cockpit.

 

A few moments later, Jayne appeared and dragged Richie out. Mal ran his hand through his hair and sat back in his chair. As he did so, he realised the wave was still open and the Operative had seen everything that transpired.

 

“Um…You aint gonna hold that against us, are you?” Mal asked nervously.

 

“_We’ll be boarding in thirty minutes Captain_,” the Operative replied and ended the transmission.

 

*-*

 

The airlock opened and the Operative entered, along with Duncan and twenty armed Alliance soldiers.

 

The Operative’s ship had picked up Duncan’s distress beacon and gone to retrieve him once they’d dispatched the attacking Reavers, before then following after Methos and Richie.

 

Duncan hadn’t enjoyed drugging and implanting the tracers on them, but he knew that the old man would take the first opportunity to escape. But he never expected to find them on _Serenity_, and he wondered why Methos would put himself in such obvious danger.

 

“Where are they, Captain Reynolds?” the Operative asked as the men fanned out and began to search the ship.

 

“Sorry, but we already spaced them. If you follow our trail back, I’m sure you’ll find them,” Mal replied.

 

“You could have claimed the reward,” Duncan pointed out. Reynolds seemed to think about this for a moment and then shrugged.

 

“Don’t take too kindly to spies on my boat. Even dead ones. Now, if you’d care to search my ship, go ahead, we’ve nothing to hide. Just make it fast, I’ve a consignment waiting for me on Beaumonde,” Mal replied.

 

Duncan could tell he was lying, but he couldn’t blame the man for wanting the Alliance off his vessel, everything about him screamed Browncoat. Duncan searched the ship, but he couldn’t feel Methos or Richie anywhere and with a pang of sorrow he realised that Reynolds was telling the truth about spacing them. He didn’t know what that might do to an Immortal, but he hoped that they would survive and that they would be picked up.

 

_If only they hadn’t found those trackers_, he thought.

 

He returned to the cargo bay and informed the Operative that they weren’t aboard. The other men had been unsuccessful in locating the Tams, so they had no choice but to leave _Serenity_ empty handed.

 

“Bye, drop by any time,” Reynolds called as the ship door closed behind them.

 

“You know the Tams were aboard, right?” Duncan asked. The Operative nodded.

 

“If they were, we could not find them. Let us see if we can locate your…acquaintances. Perhaps they will have information pertinent to the location of the Tams,” he replied.

 

*-*

 

### A few hours earlier

“You have every right to turn us over to those Purplebellies,” Methos began.

 

“Too gorram right,” muttered Jayne.

 

“But I think I have a plan that will allow us all to safely get out of this,” Methos continued, ignoring Jayne. “We’ve disabled the subdermal trackers that Simon found planted on us, but if you just hide us they will still find us; the Operative is Immortal.”

 

“_Dashiang baotza shr duh lah dootze_! So, when exactly did you figure on sharing that piece of information?” Mal demanded, getting to his feet.

 

“I just did,” Methos replied. “As I said, if we’re just hidden, he’ll find us. But, if we’re dead then he can’t sense our presence. You can tell him you spaced us.”

 

“I say we just space ‘em anyway,” Jayne grumbled, but nobody was really paying him any attention.

 

“And why’d he want to believe that?” Zoe asked Methos.

 

“Because he’ll witness you shoot us, and he won’t believe we would reveal our secret to strangers. Three taps, two in the head, one in the chest. It’ll hurt like hell, but it should keep us out so you can stash us in an airless part of the ship until they’ve gone. Then you can drop us at the nearest world and we’ll be out of your lives,” Methos replied.

 

“Alternatively, we can shoot you and turn you over to the Alliance,” Jayne said. “Claim the reward money.”

 

“_Bizui_, Jayne. Nobody’s collecting any rewards. _Dong le ma_?” Mal said. Jayne had the decency to look abashed, but only for a moment.

 

“Just saying. S’not like they’re crew or nothing,” he muttered. River glared at him, and he shut up.

 

“Ain't nobody getting turned over to no Alliance. Right, Captain?” Kaylee said. Mal said nothing, but stood regarding the two Immortals. “Captain?” she added with less certainty.

 

*-*

 

### Now

 

“_Wang ba dan_, it worked,” Jayne muttered as he and Mal lay Methos and Richie on their bunks.

 

“Have a feeling these two’ve had a lot of practise getting out of situations,” Mal answered with a chuckle.

 

“Reckon they might be useful to have around, sir,” Zoe said from the corridor. Mal exited the cabin and smiled at her. She was reading his thoughts again.

 

“Reckon they might, at that. But we’ve enough trouble of our own, don’t need to take on no more,” he replied. Zoe smiled and nodded, but they both knew he was probably going to let their unusual companions stay on _Serenity_ if they wanted.


End file.
